Sunday, January 30, 2011

The smell of my father in a Ziploc bag

I was cleaning out some boxes the other day and I came across my father's hairbrush. My father died three years ago. When packing up his stuff back then, I placed the brush in an air-tight Ziploc bag and stored it with other items.

The brush has many short bristles, and it picked up a lot of hair. Every so often a brush like that needs to be cleaned. My father's had not been cleaned in a long time, and contained hundreds of his hairs.

What a surprise I got when I opened that Ziploc bag! It was like my father had walked right into the room: I could smell him! I put my nose even closer to the bag and the smell was stronger. If I closed my eyes, my father was there! It was unnerving. It made me sad, because all of a sudden the memory of him was overpowering, and I felt briefly the same emptyness I felt in the days and weeks after he died.

AFTER THINKING ABOUT THIS
for a few days I realized that smell is the one sense we can't actually imagine at will. I mean, if I close my eyes I can almost see my father's face. If I concentrate I can hear his voice. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember what he smelled like.

My mother, who also died recently, wore the same perfume every day. When I came into a room, if she were there I would sometimes know it before I saw her. But if I try to remember the smell of that perfume, I cannot. Yet, if someone were to walk into my room today wearing it, I would immediately recall my mother.

I don't believe that anyone can just imagine a smell of the past at will. I believe you must actually smell it. I don't even recall a dream that involved smell.

What do you think?